Despite desperately clinging to what little pride she had left, tears welled in her eyes and trailed down her face.

She told herself it was a reflex response to the pain, but she knew better. It was the abject humiliation and pathetic weakness that had her in tears.

General consensus was to stick with the short teasers rather than the long excerpts, so that’s what I’ve done. And will continue to do.

I hope this one piqued your curiosity. I’d love to hear your thoughts. And to know what you’re currently working on. Do you have a “pathetic” quote you can share? Or maybe another awesome line or two. Let’s talk about it.

Sorry I’m late to this party, Staci. But, I have to ask. Did you write this snippet about me? That describes me perfectly right now! 🙂 Of course, I’m kidding. Great snippet and I want to know what has caused her such pain.

I love the short snippets because they really serve to make me curious about what is happening in the scene. There are some really good ones in the comments, too.
WIPS Wednesdays are a lot of fun. If I ever get my act together, I may tackle them, too. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the heck out of what you and Joan are doing!

In my current WIP the protagonist has no choice but to wipe out a gang of thieves who are holding an entire wagon train hostage. You know what’s pathetic? Instead of looking upon him as a hero, the folks rescued feel guilty that others had to die so they may live. They are so wrapped up in their own guilt that they view the protagonist as an incarnation of evil. How’s that for pathetic?

I don’t have a direct pathetic quote, but I’d like to share something I wrote yesterday, where one of my characters gets overwhelmed with guilt. In the quote I mention ‘guilt-edged’, which is a lead on from a play on words I used a little earlier in the narrative, where he sees the priest’s robes are ‘gilt edged’ and he sees himself as ‘guilt edged’. … Here goes,
‘We do unto others as we would have done unto ourselves.’
Jonah lost the rest of whatever the priest said. That last line undid him. It started at his navel and worked up into his gut, until he felt that his whole body had come unravelled. On and on it went, until he was sure he was a mere outline of his old self—a shadow outlined in that awful guilt-edging—with his innards on full display and open to public perusal.

This is from Exodus, Book One of my The Colony Series, which I hope to publish early next year 🙂

I love your excerpt and word choice, Staci. And I’m enjoying these WIP Wednesdays. Thanks for sharing and for the invitation to share 🙂

An interesting extract, Staci. I am trying to finish my novella about the Anglo Boer War called A Ghost and his Gold. Here is an extract which might be more heart wrenching than pathetic. You judge: “A few moments later, Mrs Smit entered the tent with her children. She laid the dead body of her baby down on a blanket. The child had drawn its last breath while she was speaking to the Camp Commandant. He had given her directions to the children’s graveyard. She dropped into a seated position on the hard ground and sat there, rocking herself to and fro, and keening softly. Her worn and seemingly bloodless body was that of an old woman and her large eyes in her white face were wild and haunted. The death of her infant on top of the recent losses of her oldest son and toddler seemed to have broken something deep within her mind. It was frightening to watch.”